


Exercise the power of vulnerability

by kestra_troi



Series: Scott's Multiverse of Daddies [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Alpha Scott McCall, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Beta Peter, Beta Peter Hale, Bottom Scott, Bottom Scott McCall, Breeding Kink, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Daddy Kink, Dom Peter, Dom Peter Hale, Dom/sub, Dynamics Play, Established Relationship, Feminization, Fisting, Knotting, M/M, Mentioned Stiles Stilinski, Naked Male Clothed Male, Older Man/Younger Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rare Pairings, Sceter - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Sub Scott, Sub Scott McCall, Top Peter, Top Peter Hale, Werewolf Bites, Wolfed Out Sex, implied sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: Peter is one of the few Beta males with a functional knot, so him and Scott explore fisting and knotting.This is part 2 in a series of unconnected vignettes centering on Scott and his various relationships with older men.





	Exercise the power of vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> I marked this as underage, but I don't specify Scott's age in the story, so you can read him to be underaged or not. I didn't intend him to be, but make of it what you will. 
> 
> Title is a Stefan Molyneaux quote. 
> 
> Kudos and comments welcome!

Sweat clung to him, in a thin sheen, glistening like a transparent second skin. Goosebumps broke out on his arms and legs forcing a sharp shudder through his tense muscles. Scott panted shallowly, slack jawed and flushed. His face burned, plastered to the cool, expensive sheets. His eyes erratically flashed red as his hole clenched fitfully around Peter’s wrist. “A-a-al-alpha?”

“You want to take my knot, don’t you, pup?” Peter asked, answering Scott’s unspoken question with another question. Scott whimpered, nodding weakly. Peter soothingly petted the small of his back with his free, ungloved hand. “This will prepare you for the stretch.”

Slowly, minutely, Peter rotated his wrist first one way and then the other to acclimate his partner to the movement. Scott sputtered, firmly clutching the sheets by his head, careful to keep his claws retracted. “Are you enjoying your first fisting, pup?”

“Y-yes, alpha,” Scott muttered, finally catching his breath.

“Good girl,” Peter softly praised, skimming his hand down Scott’s back to lovingly scratch his scalp. Scott bit his lip to swallow a groan. He wailed when Peter abruptly twisted his wrist quicker, knuckles suddenly brushing his prostate. His flaccid dick leaked, gushing pre-come in thin, continuous streams that stained the sheets beneath him.

Peter chuckled, his eyes gleaming their icy blue.

Gradually, he pulled his hand out of Scott’s ass, maintaining the pressure against his prostate as he extracted one finger at a time. Scott whined at the loss and the trembling, empty feeling in his gut. Peter wiped his gloved hand on Scott’s engorged rosebud, smearing more lube on the puffy rim. “And that, dear boy, is how we turn your ass into a suitable cunt for my knot.”

Scott shook all over, chills spreading from his exposed, expanded hole down to his bent knees and curled toes, then upwards through his feeble arms. Unsteadily, he raised his head, glancing over his shoulder, curious, as if he would be able to see the changes in his body.

“Would you like me to take a picture for you?” Peter sarcastically offered. “So, you can see what a beautiful cunt you have?”

Shaking his head, Scott collapsed back onto the bed, while two fingers judiciously probed his hole. “Perhaps I will regardless, for my own satisfaction,” Peter said ominously, pressing three freshly lubed fingers into his sub. “A memento to remember this night by: the first night I bred you like a bitch in heat.”  

“Yes, alpha,” Scott muttered, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. A new heat flooded his face.

“Easy, pup, easy,” Peter fussed, adding a fourth finger. He rubbed Scott’s flank in a comforting, circular motion and shushed the sniffling younger man. He slipped his thumb inside and Scott gasped, holding his breath tightly in his throat. “Breathe, pup. Remember to breathe.”

Shakily forcing out a breath, Scott wheezily inhaled. Out, in. Out, in. Out, in. A simple rhythm, but hard to follow as Peter again twisted and turned his fist this way and that in deliberate arcs, loosening his hole.

His insides ached, his entire lower body throbbed, especially his hole. Peter withdrew, then pushed back in again. And again. And again. Practically, punching his ass into submission. Scott soared, his eyes rolling back into his head, while something wholly different yet eerily similar to an orgasm rocketed around his synapses.

Peter slowed. He came to a stop with his fist only partially buried in Scott’s ass. “That should do it,” he grandly announced. “Do you feel looser now, pup? Like your insides might pour out of your ass?”

“God, yes,” Scott sobbed, confessing. “Feel so good, Daddy!”

“Wonderful,” Peter praised, affectionately caressing Scott’s ass. He gave the cheek a playful swat. “Scoot up the bed, pup. Make room for Daddy.”

Gasping, Scott looked over the expanse of mattress in front of him. Peter might as well have told him to climb Mount Everest. Somehow relaxing his inflexible fingers, Scott tossed his limp arm in front of him and tugged himself forward one puny pull at a time.

From his vantage point behind him, Peter watched his boy amused. He removed his glove, careful to not splatter his clothes with excess lube or the dusting of wolfsbane on the exterior side, while he unzipped his slacks singlehanded. He jerked his dick out of his pants and tossed the glove into his wastebasket.

Pumping lube directly onto his hand, he stroked his length, basking in the feeling of erectile freedom. He gazed at Scott’s wrecked hole, wagging to and fro in the air with every crawling step, gaping and unrecovered. He smiled. “How did you convince your old emissary to make this uniquely useful batch of wolfsbane?”

“I-I told him it was for Stiles,” Scott explained.

“You lied,” Peter happily summarized. “Oh, my sweet, honey child. I do believe I have finally corrupted you.”

Scott blushed and quietly whimpered. Peter continued, “But answer me this: Deaton doesn’t particularly care for Stiles one way or the other. Why would he provide him such an indecent strain of wolfsbane?”

“I-I told him…Sti-stiles needed it…for Derek,” Scott admitted, sighing with relief as he crawled passed the middle of the bed and came to a stop. Peter rumbled with pride. Tentatively, Scott reached his hands down to his ass and meekly fingered his obscenely stretched rim.

“Oh, you, naughty girl,” Peter tutted, quickly kneeling on the bed behind Scott. He smacked his hands away taking them and placing them explicitly on the edge of the bed. “Good girls ask permission before playing with their slutty cunts.”

“I’m s’rry, Daddy,” Scott slurred.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl for Daddy and take my knot or are you going to be naughty?” Peter whispered huskily in Scott’s ear.

“I’ll be good, Daddy,” Scott promised, his eyes briefly gleaming red in the soft lamplight. Peter growled lowly, snarling as he nipped at Scott’s ear. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the urge to shift and assert his dominance.

“Good girl,” Peter cooed, sweet as sin. He straightened up, grabbing Scott by the hips. He teasingly rubbed his erection in Scott’s bared, quivering hole. Scott cried. “Color?”

“Green, Daddy,” Scott hastily replied. “Green.”

“Once I knot you, we will be tied for at least fifteen minutes,” Peter described. “I won’t be able to pull out, no matter how uncomfortable you get. Do you still want to try?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Scott said without hesitation. “I want it. I want your knot. Want you to breed me, alpha. I’ve been good. Been good for you, Daddy.”

“You’ve been better than good,” Peter promised. “You’ve been mine.”

Without warning, Peter plunged his dick into Scott all the way in a single savage thrust. Scott wailed. His hole looser than ever before could only faintly clench around the intrusion and Peter hammered into him with unrestrained strength. Scott’s claws poked through the fabric. His ear sharpened as he grunted and groaned, and his playtime alpha pounded into him mercilessly.

Unrelenting, Peter chased his orgasm. He cricked his neck, the shift wrenching his insides as his fangs filled his mouth. He dug his claws into Scott’s damp skin. The young Alpha raised his head and growled. Peter leaned over, placatingly flicking his tongue at the juncture of Scott’s shoulder and neck: the perfect place to plant his bite.

Scott mewled plaintively, the itch to bite at this errant Beta flaring in his chest. The instinct to fight blossomed as he hesitantly bared his throat. He burned inside and out.

The windows rattled, and the room reverberated with Peter’s subvocal roar. His knot expanded. His eyes electrifyingly blue. He staked his claim with a bite. Scott yelped beneath him, half screaming half roaring, as he erupted, his come darkening and sinking into the sheets.  

Lapping at the thin rivulets of blood dribbling out of his sub, Peter murmured sweet things to his boy. He snapped his hips once, twice, and a final time more before his knot swelled to full. Scott sobbed, quaking and shuddering. Peter eased them onto their sides and tenderly shushed his overstimulated sub, nuzzling the bite he left on him. “What a good girl you are,” he remarked. “What a good girl for Daddy.”


End file.
